This article involves some numbers and some long-ish thought experiments, but I hope you’ll be patient because it’s an argument for hedonism.

Let’s say you are faced with two boxes, Box A and Box B. Now, inside Box A sits $1,000—it’s there, it’s yours, and if you want it, congratulations. But inside Box B is a sum of money you can’t see, an amount determined by the prediction of some mysterious Predictor. You don’t know who or what this predictor is—maybe it’s a computer, maybe it’s a deity, maybe it’s just a savant who’s really lucky. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you have enormous faith in the Predictor’s ability to guess your decisions, and the amount of money in that second box will be determined by what the Predictor thinks you’re about to do.

Now you have a choice: you can take Box A, or Box B, or you can take both. If the Predictor thinks that you’re going to take just Box B, and that you’re going to ignore that tempting $1,000 in Box A, well then he’ll put a whole $1 million in Box B. But if the Predictor thinks you’re going to be greedy and go for both boxes, well then he won’t put anything in Box B.

So the Predictor makes his (or her, or its) decision and determines the contents of Box B. Now it’s up to you. What do you choose?

Well, your first instinct might be to be greedy, and to decide to go for both boxes. After all, no matter what the Predictor decided, you’ll be guaranteed the $1,000 in Box A. And if you gamed the Predictor, and got the $1 million in Box B, then nicely done: you’ve got $1,001,000.

But not so fast. What makes you think that you’ll be able to trick the Predictor? Didn’t you have ‘enormous confidence’ in his (or her, or its) ability to predict your decision? In which case, if you choose to be greedy, then the Predictor probably guessed you’d be greedy and put no money in Box B. But if you choose just Box B, then the Predictor probably thought you’d do just that and put the $1 million in the box. If this is the case—if you don’t think you can cheat the Predictor—well then your best option is to go with just Box B and probably win $1 million.

But that still doesn’t feel quite right, does it? I mean, didn’t the Predictor already make the prediction? There’s nothing you can really do about it, and that $1,000 sitting in Box A is just waiting for you. The Predictor’s prediction has been preordained, and so you ought to be greedy. After all, you can’t change the past.

I could keep going back and forth, but I would only be echoing the massive literature already existing on the problem. The thought experiment was invented by Bill Newcomb, a physicist at the University of California, Los Angeles, but it was popularized by the philosopher (and Columbia alum) Robert Nozick. Perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, Nozick’s writings on the problem connect quite well with any number of texts on the CC syllabus. Let’s look at Calvinism.

As you probably know, Calvinists believed (believe? Are there still Calvinists?) that God preordained each human to either heaven or hell and that no good deeds could influence the outcome, for that would be limiting the power of God. However, through Scripture, God revealed that those who were good in this life were more likely to go to heaven, even if good behavior could not actually influence His (or Her, or Its) decision.

So Calvinists were faced with a choice. They could be greedy, drink beer, wear colorful clothing, etc., and hope they could game God and get into heaven. They might or might not save their eternal souls, but at least they’d be guaranteed a little fun (the equivalent of the sure-thing $1,000 by guessing both boxes). Or they could play it conservatively, help their fellow man, avoid drink, and stick to black and white in hopes that the correlation between good behavior and winning God’s graces would guarantee salvation.

Before I end this column, I want to make the case for hedonism. Let’s take a final example. While waiting for the results of your Orgo final, you learn that there is a high correlation between those people who continue to study after taking the test and those students who get good grades on that test. After learning this, should you go and hit the books in the hope of raising your score? I say no. The decision has already been made, you’ve already taken your test, and there’s nothing more you can do.

I believe this final example is no different than being greedy and going for both boxes, or living as a hedonist. The Predictor has already made a decision—your actions no longer affect him (or her, or it). I have yet to hear a convincing argument for why you would refuse to study after a test yet still choose just Box B, or believe in the doctrine of predestinataion (I am of course open to suggestions). So my recommendation to you is to live immorally, drink excessively, and wear colorful clothing. But only if you’re a Calvinist.

Brendan Ballou is a Columbia College junior majoring in philosophy. Philosophical Explanations runs alternate Tuesdays. Specopinion@columbia.edu